To the moon.
This is what it seems like
When I watch the pages stutter and flip.

To the sun as well
As it seems to be approaching quickly
Next to the moon
And both are so, so bright.

They are blinding.
Forgiveness is quiet
But now I know it's terribly bright.
It illuminates the driver's face
And it catches their shellshocked face
Their open lips
Their vulnerable cry.

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